


Eritque Arcus: The Wizarding World by Colour

by LilypadProphet



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: First War with Voldemort, I'm Bad At Summaries, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Multi, Not Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Compliant, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Second War with Voldemort, Rainbows, Second War with Voldemort, character and relationship tags to be added, color coding, like really bad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:14:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27447709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilypadProphet/pseuds/LilypadProphet
Summary: Hermione Granger was a bold, yet subtle Rose Red.Rubeus Hagrid was a friendly Marmalade Orange.Colin Creevey was a cheerful Canary Yellow.Rita Skeeter was an unyielding Acid Green.Luna Lovegood was a deep, peculiar Azure.Nymphadora Tonks was a bright Bubblegum Pink.Albus Dumbledore was a dark, almost black, Indigo Purple.Narcissa Malfoy was a delicate Porcelain White.Sirius Black was a faded Leather Black.This is the Wizarding World by Colour.
Relationships: Arthur Weasley/Molly Weasley, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger & Harry Potter & Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger & Neville Longbottom, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Minerva McGonagall & All of Gryffindor House, Sirius Black & Remus Lupin & Peter Pettigrew & James Potter & Lily Evans Potter
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	Eritque Arcus: The Wizarding World by Colour

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Thanks for reading this, it means a lot. This is a bit of a strange concept, but it's 56 Harry Potter characters explained in colour. Hopefully it makes more sense when you read it. 
> 
> Any and all comments are absolutely amazing!!
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, and the image isn't mine either. From what I can tell, it belongs to University Art, found here; https://universityart.com/red-alert/

**Rose: Hermione Granger**

Hermione Granger is a bold, yet subtle, Rose Red. She is the colour of early mornings spent curled up reading, the colour of a small smile creeping to the corners of your mouth. She is a brave colour, yet often underestimated as ‘not red enough’. She is the colour of a fiery passion for justice, for the rights of everyone and everything, the colour of standing up for herself, and her friends, when it matters most.

Rose Red is the colour the potion she takes turns in her first year, when the flickering magical fire illuminates it from behind. It is the colour of cleverness, anticipation, but also concern and fear. Rose Red is the colour of her messily written cursive at the bottom of a torn page in her second year, the colour of clues, of a triumphant ‘aha!’ moment, yet still the colour of frustration, of petrification as she lies there helpless. Rose Red is the colour of her face as she flushes with anger in her third year, the colour her fist turns after it connects with the boy’s face in a loud crack of rage. It’s the colour of a burning fury formed by the injustice she is witnessing, and it is also the birth of a fairness for equality that she will fight for as long as she can stand.

Rose Red is the colour of the letters sliced in jagged cuts along the inside of her arm. It is the colour of excruciating pain, of her darkest moment, a reminder that no matter what she does, ‘her kind’ will _never_ be enough for some people, that she will _always_ struggle under the weight of such slurs, of such prejudice. 

But it is also the colour of healing. The colour of fading hurt, of warm hugs and whispered love from friends and family. It is the colour of her battle scars, and she does not hide it under long sleeves or concealment charms. She wears her beliefs, and her trauma, proudly on her skin, and anyone who thinks any differently can keep it to themselves.

Because under that layer of quiet insecurity, Hermione Granger is a strong, Rose Red.

**Raspberry: Neville Longbottom**

Neville Longbottom is a round, Raspberry Red. He is the colour of rosy cheeks, flushed with joy, of nervous answers, and of burning embarrassment when he is, once again, wrong. He is ‘too pink to be a real wizard’, as his family complains loudly, like they always do, because he is not the outspoken one, or the funny one, or even the smart one. He is the colour of his Gran’s disappointment. 

Raspberry Red is the colour of his Remembrall in first year, swirling bright, reminding him he is still forgetful, stupid, stupid, stupid. It is the colour of his embarrassment as his housemates snort and chuckle, and of his face when Malfoy sneers at him with disdain, but it is also the colour of his relieved smile when Hermione hands him back his magical glass, still smoking red, and the colour his heart beats when she pats him on the back and tells him not to listen to anything Malfoy says, he’s just a bully anyways. Raspberry Red is the colour of his frustration later that year, when his ‘friends’ look at each other uneasily, talking to him in the same voice one might use when speaking to a puppy. It’s the colour of his hurt as Hermione apologies, then strikes him with a Full Body-Bind curse. 

But as he grows, his soft, Raspberry Red deepens into a bolder colour. It’s still just as pink-tinted, but now it is the colour of his bravery as he steps up again and again for what is right. Raspberry Red is now the colour of his achievement when he successfully disarms _Harry Potter_ , the Harry Potter in his first DA meeting. It is the colour of the gum wrapper his mother hands him, dead eyed and empty smiled, when he puts on his brave face before pocketing it secretly. It is the colour of his broken nose as it puffs up in the Department of Mysteries, stopping him from pronouncing the spells he’s been practising all year. It is the colour of the Cruciatus Curse that _She_ tortured him with, taunting and laughing.

It is the colour of his lips, stained with his own blood, as he spits out what may be his final words (I’ll join you when hell freezes over! Dumbledore’s Army!) and the colour of the sword he wields as it slices through the snake’s head. 

He is clumsy and shy, yet courageous and determined. He has his low’s and his high’s, yet always manages to push through. In the end, he is a Gryffindor through and through. Yes, Neville Longbottom is a Raspberry Red.

**Cherry: Minerva McGonagall**

Minerva McGonagall is a sharp Cherry Red. She is a strict, clever colour, yet hides an undeniable affection. She is the colour of sweeping red ink, slicing across wrinkled parchment, and the colour of sweat and victory on the Quidditch Pitch. She is prim and proper, like a teacher should be, but burns bright with a bemused wit and fearless tendency to speak up for what she knows is right.

Cherry Red is the colour of the wax seal on her Hogwarts acceptance letter, which her mother hands to her with tears in her eyes. It is the way the woman holds on to the parchment just a moment too long, the way she grips her daughter’s train ticket with a kind of longing. It is the colour of her burning embarrassment and concern as she sits on the uncomfortable wooden stool, painfully aware of the whole school’s eyes on her for a long five and a half minutes while the Hat wavers between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor. It is the colour of the badges and prizes she proudly bears, pronouncing her Prefect, then Head Girl, and then _Transfiguration Today’s Most Promising Newcomer._

Cherry Red is the colour of her heart breaking as she flees her home, and the Ministry, and many years later as she survives student after student - watching them falling in battle, or facing evils far greater than any child should have to, or being tortured and hurt while she does all she can to protect them, _but it’s never, ever enough -_

But it’s also the colour of her signature at the bottom of a carefully scripted letter, neatly folded and sent by owl. And the colour of the oh-so-familiar Hogwarts seal adorning the reply, offering her a teaching post at the school she had grown to love. The colour of endless detention referrals, and matchsticks gone up in flames rather than transforming into a needle. The colour of her chaotic, foolhardy house that she wholeheartedly adores, and the colour of triumphant victory as they finally crush Slytherin. 

Minerva McGonagall is stern and witty and strong and brave. She is, and will always be, Cherry Red.

**Crimson: James Potter**

James Potter is a striking, Crimson Red. He is the colour of loud laughter and brilliant ideas, the colour of a roaring bonfire, lighting up the night. He is the precious one, the only child, treasured and adored by all who lay eyes on him. He is the colour of someone who has only ever known love, the colour of someone who thrives on attention and care. 

Crimson Red is the colour of the draperies and carpets adorning his dormitory in first year. It is the colour of uncontainable excitement, of late nights spent talking and laughing, eating sweets and staying up long after lights out. It is the colour of the howler sent to his new best friend the next day, angry and accusing. It’s the colour of James’s pledge, then and there, never to leave a friend behind. In his fifth year, it’s the colour of the tiny potion they spent months perfecting, and the colour of a sudden bright flash that transforms him into a wobbly-legged stag.

Crimson Red is the transfixing colour of a certain fifth year’s long hair, and the colour her face slowly turns as she turns him down again, shouting that he was no better than the Giant Squid. It is the colour of James’s confusion and humiliation, because _what was he doing wrong? It’s not like Snivellus wouldn’t have done the same thing to him, if he’d had the chance._

Crimson Red is the colour of the jinxes he still sends Snape’s way, even after promising Lily he’d stop hexing everyone so much. _It’s a reflex_ , he justifies, _only self defense_.

Crimson Red is the colour of Lily’s furious anger when she catches him throwing the greasy little snake across the room with a well-practised spell. It’s the colour of her shouts, telling him he’s _So selfish, and arrogant and obnoxious! Does he ever stop to think? Has he been lying to her the whole time?_ What hurts the most is the disgust in her eyes as she turns away from both the boys and tells him he’s no better than Snivellus.

But Crimson Red is also the colour of change. It’s the way he finally turns away when Sirius smirks at Sniv-Snape, instead of raising his wand to join in. It’s the promise he makes, and keeps, to stop just attacking people for fun, because there’s so much more going on that he could be attacking instead. It’s the colour of Lily’s forgiveness, and later the colour of the engagement ring he slides on her finger.

Through all of life’s trials and lessons, James Potter is Crimson Red.

**Scarlet: Ginny Weasley**

Ginevra Weasley is a bold Scarlet Red. She is the colour of a worn, second-hand Quaffle flying through the crisp morning air, of snarky comebacks and a strong personality. She is the colour of constantly proving herself, constantly competing to be allowed to join her brothers. 

Scarlet Red is the colour of rooster blood dripping down corridor walls, painted into threatening messages by her own fingers. It is the colour of loneliness, of finding solace in a dangerous diary. Scarlet Red is the colour that flickers in _his_ eyes, faking sympathy and slithering his way into her soul, sucking away her free will like a dementor. Scarlet Red is the colour of blood adorning Harry’s face and robes as he pulls her to safety, and she thinks it is the most heroic thing she’s ever seen. She thinks she might have finally found a way to be included, allowed to join in with Ron and his friends.

Then, in her fourth and fifth years, Scarlet Red is the colour of being alone again - almost part of the trio, almost as good at Quidditch as Harry had been, almost ‘old enough’ to join in, but always left behind. It’s the colour of her ever-rotating wheel of boyfriends, and though she likes them all well enough, and _wants_ each one to be the ‘right’ guy, it just doesn’t work out. Scarlet Red is the colour of her famous Bat-Bogey Hex, which she wields like a sword, slicing through the ego’s of her opponents. Harry, Ron and Hermione look impressed, and for a moment she thinks she’s finally done it, she’s finally enough-

But apparently, Scarlet Red is _not_ ‘old enough’ or ‘fast enough’ or ‘able enough’ to join in. It is, however, the colour that burns through her in an angry rage when Harry tells her she can’t come with them to rescue Sirius, and she tells him so. Scarlet Red is the colour of speaking your mind, after all. And to her surprise, both her brother and close friend turn to the Chosen One with question, and maybe accusation, in their eyes, as if to say; Why not?

And Ginny proves herself at the Department of Mysteries, and later in the Battle of the Astronomy Tower. She fights to be a part of the action at the Battle of Hogwarts, too, and soon she is not ‘Bill/Charlie/Percy/Fred/George’s Little Sister’, but Ginny Weasley, professional Quidditch player, or Ginny Weasley, senior correspondent for the Daily Prophet’s sport page, or just Ginny Weasley, a great witch. It turns out, Scarlet Red _is_ enough to join in, after all. 

**Maroon: Ronald Weasley**

Ronald Weasley is a boiling, Maroon Red. He is the colour of loud (sometimes mean, always funny) remarks, slightly off-colour jokes at just the right moments, and petty grudges. He is a loyal colour, brave at heart, quick to react, and always ready to defend.

Maroon Red is the colour of his ears as his mother rubs furiously at his dirty nose before he escapes to the Hogwarts Express in first year. It is embarrassment and annoyance, but somewhere (deep, deep down) it is also love and nervousness. Maroon Red is the colour of the jumper his mother sends him for Christmas, and he loudly complains that it is his least favourite colour. It’s the colour of years and years of being forgotten, of being not good enough, of not being as smart as Bill and Percy, or especially good at Quidditch like Charlie, or even funny like the twins, and the jumper is a painful reminder that his wishes have been forgotten again.

Maroon Red is the colour of the intense, burning jealousy he battles each day for _months_ in his fourth year (and that he might still grapple with for years to come, but he’s gotten better at hiding it). It’s the colour of constantly being overshadowed and forgotten, ignored and laughed at. He’s bottled it up for so long, only letting hints pour out in trivial fights and dark humor. Now, Maroon Red explodes, or rather implodes, like a volcano falling in on itself in an explosion no-one else can hear. 

Then, Maroon Red is the colour of coming to terms with life, of kinda-apologising and definitely trying again. It’s the colour of joy at having his best mate back, and the colour of appreciating all the things he _does_ have. It’s the colour of always fighting by his friends and family, of trying to stop everything from falling apart when they are at their most vulnerable.

Sure, the green-eyed monster strikes again, and frequently, throughout the rest of his teenage years, particularly during the worst months of the war, camping in desolate forests, eating barely two meals a day, and with the addition of the Horcrux, he turns moody and cruel. But this time, Ron’s got a better handle on it. He knows he’s imperfect, flawed, but Ron Weasley always manages to push past Maroon Red, and returns to fix the wrong, to finish the fight.

**Currant: Molly Weasley**

Molly Weasley is a strong, Currant Red. She is the colour of delicious fragrances wafting from the kitchen, of earthy soil, fresh from the garden and tracked through the house. She is the perfect balance between warm, round and motherly, and stern, commanding and rule-enforcing. 

Currant Red is the colour of her cheeks at four in the morning one rare, balmy spring day after running all the way back to her dormitory from the Great Lake. It is the colour of blushing and smiling, uncharacteristically shy, as Arthur animatedly explains his newest fascination with something he calls a telly-fone, and the colour of a bubbling happiness not even a stern lecture from the Fat Lady could pop. Currant Red is the colour of all her children’s hair, and she remembers holding each of them, newly born, in her arms, beaming with the same happiness bubbling up inside her. Nothing, she thinks, as she watches her brood boarding the train, could burst this sense of love and family she has worked so hard to make. Not Bill working in Egypt, or Charlie off with dragons in Romania. Not Percy barely seeing them, holed up in his room, or Fred and George constantly getting in detention. Not all the trouble Ron and Harry always seem to get involved with, or the danger Ginny was in during her first year.

Currant Red is the colour of her tears when she realises she’s wrong.

First, it is the colour of Percy shouting and slamming the door, of returned Christmas jumpers and no letters. It is the colour of Sirius explaining the horrors of war to the _children_ , brave children though they may be, and of her precious family, now teenagers, growing distant and reclusive. It is the colour of her short fuse, her fragile emotions, ready to fall into pieces at the slightest word.

Then, Currant Red is the colour of blood. Pouring from Arthur’s wounds, poisoned and running through Ron’s veins. It drenches the side of George’s head, leaving him earless, and although she’s not proud of it, Molly begins to break. Tears are all too common, and the same image haunts her every night for months, of her family lying dead on the floor. It’s just a boggart’s stupid trick, she knows, but still…

Currant Red is the colour of Percy’s hands and face when she finds him bent over Fred, letting his tears wash away the layer of soot and brick dust settling on everything that doesn’t move. And Fred will not move anymore.

Currant Red is the brief flashes of insanity that flicker in her eyes, wielding her wand and screaming a battle cry. It is the colour of her heart burning with an uncontrollable _rage_ , a need to protect, because _that’s her daughter, and she can’t lose anyone else-_

Currant Red is the flash of light, hitting Bellatrix Lestrange straight in the chest, and Currant Red is the tears that she sheds each year on that day for the rest of her life, commemorating not just the death of her treasured son, and the death of all whom she lost, but the day something finally snapped inside her, the day she took multiple lives in an effort to protect what she loved. 

Currant Red is the colour of Molly Weasley’s endless love, and the lengths she will go to in order to protect it.


End file.
